


placebo feelings

by sepiapages



Series: scribbles [3]
Category: PVRIS (Band)
Genre: Depression, Self-Harm, Suicide, death!!!!!!!!, im putting it in PVRIS n saying it's Lynn bc reasons but it's not reeaaally Lynn yknow, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-13
Updated: 2017-04-13
Packaged: 2018-10-18 06:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10611054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepiapages/pseuds/sepiapages
Summary: but when you float above my body, standing up right above me, I don't feel so lonely...





	

**Author's Note:**

> i got all weird and poetic in this but "Mirrors" by PVRIS inspired this. (really fuckin great song. really fuckin great band. you should check it all out.) also I've become weirdly obsessed with "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T. S. Eliot so... that's a thing... anyways. i wrote this!

All the lights were off, the curtains drawn, and the door shut tight. Still, I could see you. I could feel you breathe. The darkness swarmed around you, little black dots, inverted fireflies flickering around your wavering form. It was darker where you were. Empty. Every breath of air that I let go was sucked back to you, and it was a fight to pull any back in to inhale. Every vessel of blood and oxygen scraped along the walls of my veins and held me down. You held me down.

When I had entered the room with the lights on, I lay down on my bed. Now, with the lights off, the bed was gone. I barely existed, barely made a dent in the fragile fabric supporting all of the world. I was as insignificant as a loose feather resting on the back of a flightless bird.

I heard my own labored breaths. Everything was heavy. It always was with you. Heavy and dark and sticky. You taunted me with the way the dark flowed around you like eddies in a stream while it clung to my skin, viscid and uncomfortable. It sapped away my strength until I was a husk lying there before you, waiting for you to make the first move.

That’s how these nights always went. I tripped up and spilled myself and you came soon after. It was like my insides called you. Or perhaps you were already inside… watching, listening, waiting for my bones to shake and my blood to cry out, no matter how quiet. It made no difference whether or not I tried to stifle it. You heard. You always heard.

You took everything from me, stripped me bare until it was just my bones glaring at you, bright in the void. I used to have a glow. I used to be able to light up the room, even just a sliver. That light has faded; now I could no longer recall what the room looked like with my luminescence cast over it. The remnants of my skin clung to the pallid structure spiderwebbed with cracks.

It was at this point that I would realize I couldn’t breathe anymore, but after so long, it was hardly of note. Just another step in the process. I used to beg for this to be over, for you to leave. I used to cry, scream, plead. Especially when you took my tools away. No, I could only spill on your terms. That’s what I learned. Now, I obeyed. Now, I waited silently for the release I knew would come when you were ready. When you deemed I was ready.

The first time, I felt lonely. Everything around me was so empty. The vacancy scared me. You promised it would ease soon; you promised this was what was best for me. Still, it took some time to adjust, even now. Though I knew you left eventually, something perched on the horizon, the chance of you leaving me there forever. You never said you would, but you never said you wouldn’t. Still, I stopped fighting you every time you returned. This was beyond my control; _that_ I could understand. You obviously knew what you were doing.

It was for an equilibrium, you said. It was for balance. It would help. _Trust me._

I did. Somehow, I did.

I supposed I shouldn’t feel so lonely; after all, you were there with me. You promised you would never leave me. You would always be there watching over me. And so you were. I knew I couldn’t deny that. So, with all of me splayed out and set free for a short time, I learned to relax, to relish it. You were doing this for me. It pained me to admit it, but once I did, I realized how true it was: _It felt good._

I never would know what you were doing. I had control of myself in the light days, but when darkness came, it was your territory. You returned, hovered before me, and whispered promises in my ears as I fell apart. I imagined this was your way of stitching me back together一a sort of “worse before better” process一and let you tear away my skin, steal my breath, and bare my bones. My hollow chest echoed with voices that attempted to reason with the heavy pain, all in vain. I closed my eyes, and you were there. Even when the sun would rise in the morning, you would  _always be there._ Waiting. Anticipating the next fall, my next stumble, the next spill.

I have spilled myself to you countless times, now. My bones ache each time you open them up, straining against the weight and the force. I shudder and they crack. Little by little, I am fading away. Flecks of my frame flicker away into the darkness and I know you drink them up greedily along with the other bits of black that so heeded to you like a waterfall to the rocks below.

So I sat, swallowed by the nothing you created and the everything you took from me. Again, tonight, I spilled for you, but this time, it will be the last breath you steal from my lips. I give this to you, all that I have left, all that you left of me.


End file.
